When I started this post, it was about the US tour that Blackwater Holylight announced the other day. Then there was word of a slot at Roadburn playing an album that hasn’t been released yet. Then there was the announcement of the album. Then there was the European tour that fills in the gaps between prior confirmations at Desertfest in Oslo, London and Berlin. They’ll also play A Colossal Weekend in Copenhagen, Obsidian Dust in Brussels and Sonic Rites in Helsinki, as well as others.

All of this information came to me in succession as I was trying to put the post together. I found this, then that. I have to think if I was cooler I’d be on some press list that I’m not, but so it goes. Now there’s a song streaming too — it’s called “Heavy, Why?” and continues the thread of Blackwater Holylight being way more complex in terms of style and progression than anyone expected them to be from their psychedelic beginnings — and a bunch of info from the album’s Bandcamp page, so what I’ve done is my very best to assemble all the information from various sources — the US dates were from Nanotear‘s Nathan Carson, the album info comes from Bandcamp as noted, the Euro dates are cut and pasted from the band’s Linktr.ee, because I couldn’t find a typed out list anywhere. Also so it goes.

I don’t know if any of that or any of the below makes sense, but there’s a lot of info and I wanted to get at least what I think is all of it in, so here we are. Album’s out Jan. 30, they’ll tour the US, do it in full at Roadburn, then head back over for more shenanigans in May. No doubt what follows will be more touring.

From the internet:

When Blackwater Holylight left their hometown of Portland OR three years ago, their mission was to escape the gloom of the Pacific Northwest and the placating comfort of familiarity. Aiming for the sunnier climes of L.A., the band found themselves not only in a warmer environment, but in a blank slate landscape—one without jobs, longtime friend groups, and the easy retreat of old habits. And it was here, unencumbered by the contentment of security, that Blackwater Holylight began diligently working on their fourth full-length album, Not Here Not Gone.

As with their previous work, Not Here Not Gone explores the duality of light and dark—menacing riffs provide the bedrock to beguiling melodies; dense walls of shoegaze guitars pair with lighter-than-air synths; and heavy subject matter is delivered by siren song vocals. Across their work, the listener gets a sense of empowerment at one turn, vulnerability the next. As drummer Eliese Dorsay describes it, “some songs we’re the predator, and some songs we’re the prey.” The juxtaposition of confidence and uncertainty is never in as such stark relief as when one makes a life changing decision, which may explain how the band’s relocation intensified their study in contrasts to intoxicating new heights on Not Here Not Gone.

The title is the perfect description of the band’s adjustment. “It’s one foot in, one foot out,” vocalist and guitarist/bassist Sunny Faris explains. “It’s about how you can lose people in your life but still have their presence and energy around you.” And indeed, listening to Not Here Not Gone, you get the distinct sense that Blackwater Holylight dragged some of the Northwest gloom down into Southern California. The opening chords of “How Will You Feel” are drenched in the muddy weight of perpetually overcast skies. But a Jacob’s Ladder of light shines through the scuzzy guitars in the form of Faris’ lilting vocals and Sarah McKenna’s blissed-out ambient synth work, guiding the listener out of the mire and into the garden.

Even in their heaviest moments, like the sludgy psychedelia of “Bodies” and “Spades,” Blackwater Holylight masterfully sculpt the thunder and grime into something that feels transcendental. Lead single “Heavy, Why?” is perhaps the apex of the band’s masterful duality and an appropriately titled examination of the ensemble’s methods. Mikayla Mayhew’s low, dirge-like riff and Dorsay’s propulsive drums could easily find a home in the catalog of an amp-worshipping Roadburn act, but Faris’ fragile vocals transform the composition into a question, a pointed and probing examination that uses beauty and grace to offset the threatening instrumentation.

In one of the biggest stylistic shifts of the album, the instrumental track “Giraffe” churns out a hallucinatory blend of woozy keyboards and pulsating bass over a beat provided by David Andrew Sitek (TV on the Radio, Run the Jewels, Solange). The song serves as a dividing line of sorts, as Not Here Not Gone shifts gears into even more nuanced territories. The band asserts that the primary change to their music has been the addition of time. On previous albums, youthful urgency yielded material that felt immediate and direct. But on Not Here Not Gone, Blackwater Holylight deliberately slowed their creative pace. “If there were to be a theme to the album, it would be patience,” says Faris. “Some of these songs we’ve been working on for three years, just giving the songs time to breath and develop while we were exploring a new place and new lives.” It’s especially evident on the latter half of the album, where tracks like “Void to Be,” “Fade,” and “Mourning After” deliberately eschew the big riff in favor of fever dream melodies and layered instrumentation. But forever savoring the paradox, the album’s final track was composed just days before the band entered the studio. “Poppyfields” is a harrowing account of a friend losing their home in an LA wildfire, set against a backdrop of blast beats, double kick drum, symphonic synths, and black metal-inspired guitars. In what feels like a counterweight to the album’s general tilt towards less tormented territories, “Poppyfields” serves as a stark reminder that no paradise is permanent, and everything will be reborn through ashes.

Not Here Not Gone was recorded at Sonic Ranch outside of El Paso TX by Sonny Diperri (Narrow Head, DIIV, Emma Ruth Rundle), allowing the band to once again step outside of their comfort zone and isolate themselves in a place where they could focus exclusively on their art. The result is the crown jewel of Blackwater Holylight’s catalog—a rich and immersive study in tonal chiaroscuro, where light finds its way out of the shadows.

Tracklisting:
1. How Will You Feel
2. Involuntary Haze
3. Bodies
4. Heavy, Why?
5. Giraffe
6. Spades
7. Void To Be
8. Fade
9. Mourning After
10. Poppyfields

Written & Produced by Blackwater Holylight
Producer, Mixer, Engineer – Sonny Diperri
Mixing Assistant – Zach Capittifenton
Engineering Assistant – Felipe Aldana
Mastering – Howie Weinberg

Sunny Faris – Vocals, Guitar, Bass
Mikayla Mayhew – Bass, Guitar
Eliese Dorsay – Drums
Sarah McKenna – Synths
Camille Getz – Violin
David Sitek – Beats on “Giraffe” (Track #5)

Blackwater Holylight are HITTING THE ROAD early next year to celebrate the release of their new album Not Here Not Gone. Glassing supports 2/13-2/27. SOM supports 2/27-3/14.

Tickets on sale now.

Fri 2/13 – San Diego, CA – Casbah
Sat 2/14 – Phoenix, AZ – Last Exit
Sun 2/15 – Albuquerque, NM – Sister
Tue 2/17 – Austin, TX – Radio/East
Wed 2/18 – Houston, TX – White Oak
Thu 2/19 – New Orleans, LA – Siberia
Fri 2/20 – Pensacola, FL – Handlebar
Sat 2/21 – Atlanta, GA – Drunken Unicorn
Sun 2/22 – Asheville, NC – Eulogy
Tue 2/24 – Charlottesville, VA – Southern Cafe
Wed 2/25 – Baltimore, MD – Metro
Thu 2/26 – Philadelphia, PA – Johnny Brenda’s
Fri 2/27 – Brooklyn, NY – Meadows
Sat 2/28 – Braintree, MA – Widowmaker Brewing
Mon 3/02 – Youngstown, OH – Westside Bowl
Tue 3/03 – Indianapolis, IN – Black Circle
Wed 3/04 – Chicago, IL – Sleeping Village
Fri 3/06 – Denver, CO – Hi-Dive
Sat 3/07 – Denver, CO – Hi-Dive
Sun 3/08 – Salt Lake City, UT – Aces High
Tue 3/10 – Seattle, WA – Neumos
Wed 3/11 – Portland, OR – Aladdin Theater
Thu 3/12 – Sacramento, CA – Starlet
Fri 3/13 – San Francisco, CA – The Chapel
Sat 3/14 – Santa Cruz, CA – Moe’s Alley
Sat 3/21 – Los Angeles, CA – Pacific Electric

BLACKWATER HOLYLIGHT 2026 EU/UK TOUR
4/18/2026 Tilburg: ROADBURN FESTIVAL
5/6/2026 AMENRA/BWHL in Brussels
5/7/2026 Hamburg
5/8/2026 Copenhagen: A Colossal Weekend
5/9/2026 Desertfest Oslo
5/12/2026 Poznan
5/13/2026 Leipzig
5/14/2026 Desertfest Berlin
5/15/2026 Neunkirchen
5/16/2026 Brussels: Obsidian Dust
5/17/2026 DESERTFEST LONDON
5/18/2026 Newcastle
5/19/2026 Glasgow
5/22/2026: SONIC RITES Helsinki
5/20/2026 Manchester

https://www.blackwaterholylight.com/
blackwaterholylight.bandcamp.com
https://linktr.ee/Blackwaterholylight
instagram.com/blackwaterholylight
https://www.facebook.com/blackwaterholylight/

Blackwater Holylight, Not Here Not Gone (2026)

Blackwater Holylight, If You Only Knew (2025)

Alright, day two. Here we go. I never really know how a given day of the Quarterly Review is going to flow until I get there. The hope is that in slating releases for a given day — which I mostly do randomly over time, though I generally like to lead with something ‘bigger’ — I’ve considered things like not putting too much that sounds the same together, geographic variability, and so on. Sometimes that plan works, and I get a day like yesterday, which was pretty close to ideal. If that was the pattern for this entire QR, I’d be just fine with that, but I know better. One day at a time, as all the inspirational tchotchkes say.

Feeling good though headed into day two, so I’ll take it.

Quarterly Review #11-20:

Blackwater Holylight, If You Only Knew

The narrative around L.A.-by-way-of-Portland’s Blackwater Holylight at this point is one of growth, and well it should be. At seven years’ remove from their self-titled debut (review here), the four-piece offer the four-song If You Only Knew — three originals and a take on Radiohead‘s “All I Need” — as something of a stopgap four years after their third LP, Silence/Motion (review here). And like that 2021 album, “Wandering Lost,” “Torn Reckless” and “Fate is Forward” see the band working to expand their sound. They’re not upstarts anymore, and the marriage of dream-pop and crush on “Wandering Lost” alone is worth the price of admission, never mind the downward swirl of “Torn Reckless” the melodic burst-through and quiet space of “Fate is Forward” or the explosion in the back half of the Radiohead tune. Pro shop, all the way.

Blackwater Holylight website

Suicide Squeeze Records website

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Spider Kitten, The Truth is Caustic to Love

There’s a deep current of Melvinsian quirk in Spider Kitten‘s thickly-riffed slog, and it’s in the creeper-into-noiseburst of “Revelation #1” with its later rawest-Alice in Chains harmonies as much as the false start on “Febrile and Taciturn” and a chugblaster like “Wretched Evergreen” which is just one of the six songs in the 14-song tracklisting under two minutes long. Throughout the 37 minutes, shit gets weird. Then it gets weirder. Then they do folk balladeering in “Sueño” for a minimal-Western divergence prefacing the later soundtrackery of “Woe Betide Me.” Then they’re back to bashing away — but at what? Themselves? Their instruments certainly. Maybe a bit of shaking genre convention if not outright, all-the-time defiance. The key blend is ultimately of the crunch in their guitar and bass tones and the melodies that come to top it — not that all the vocals are melodic, mind you — with a kind of creative restlessness that makes each cut find its own way through, some at a decent clip, to leave a dent right in the middle of your forehead.

Spider Kitten links

APF Records website

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Mooch, Kin

Montreal three-piece Mooch align with Black Throne Productions for their fourth album release. The band, comprised of guitarist/bassist/vocalist Ben Cornel, guitarist/vocalist/bassist/keyboardist Julian Iac and drummer/vocalist Alex Segreti, have run a thread of quick, purposeful growth through the last several years, with 2024’s Visions (review here)  following 2023’s Wherever it Goes following their 2020 debut, Hounds, and other singles and such besides. At their hookiest, in a piece like “Hang Me Out (False Sun),” they remind some of At Devil Dirt‘s heavy-fuzz poppy plays, but one knows better than to expect Mooch to be singleminded on an LP, and Kin plays out with according complexity, finding a particularly satisfying resolution in “Prominence” before hitting successive, different crescendos in “Lightning Rod,” “Gemini” and the eight-minute “Zenith” to end the record. A band who genuinely seem to follow where the material takes them while refusing to get lost on the way.

Mooch links

Black Throne Productions website

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Snakes & Pyramids, Disappearer

I’m not a punker. I was never cool enough to listen to punk rock. Generally when I hear something that’s rooted in punk and it lands with me, I assume that means the band are doing punk wrong. If so, I like the way Snakes & Pyramids do punk wrong on Disappearer. The tonal presence, their willingness to make not-everything be exactly on-the-beat, the liberal doses of wah treatment on the lead guitar to give a psychedelic edge, the effects on the vocals helping that as well, plus the flexibility to roll out a heavy riff. There’s not a whole lot to not like as they push genre limits across 38 minutes and eight songs, finding space for post-punk in “Disappearer” or “All the Same” before they really dig in on the near-eight-minute closer “Seven Gods.” For future reference, the band is the doubly-Brian’ed three-piece of Brian Hammond (ex-The Curses), Brian Connor (ex-Motherboar) and Cavan Bligh. Psychedelic punk, even more than punk-metal or any other way you might want to try to blend it, is incredibly difficult to pull off well. That seems much less the case here.

Snakes & Pyramids on Bandcamp

Snakes & Pyramids on Instagram

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Unbelievable Lake, I Have No Mouth and Yet I Must Scream

There is only one song on I Have No Mouth and Yet I Must Scream, and it’s the title-track. At 41 minutes long, that’s all you need, and Northern Irish psych-drone experimentalists Unbelievable Lake — think Queen Elephantine, but longer-form, more effects on the guitar, and dramatic in the ebbs and flows — the first 10 minutes are a movement unto themselves, with a linear build into a consuming payoff; due comedown provided. Those comparatively still stretches can be some of the most difficult for a band who’ve just blown it out to dwell in, but Unbelievable Lake use negative-space as much as crush to make their way toward the next culmination, which sort of gradually devolves instrumentally but makes its way along the path of residual noise toward one last round of pummel. You bet your ass they make it count. This is a significant accomplishment, and enough on its own wavelength that most ears will glaze over to hear it. But there’s just the right kind of brain out there for it, as well. Maybe that’s you.

Unbelievable Lake on Bandcamp

Cursed Monk Records website

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Krautfuzz, Live at the Church

Krautfuzz scorch the ground on the 23-minute “Live at the Church A” to such a degree that I’m surprised there was anything left to plug in for when they bring out J. Mascis of Dinosaur Jr. and Witch to take part in “Live at the Church B,” let alone a full album-unto-itself 39 minutes’ worth of go. Rest assured, there’s plenty of noiseshove in “Live at the Church B” as well, and it arrives quicker than in the preceding slab, guitar running forward and back in loops even before the swirl cuts through the fuller distortion surrounding at about seven minutes in, howls and wails and wormholes and spacetime bend inward, flex outward, breathe like the cosmic microwave background, and the exploration continues after the rumble (mostly) subsides, getting ready to sneak in one more mini-freakout before they’re done. Damn, Krautfuzz. Save some lysergic push for the rest of the class. Or better, don’t. Clearly they were rolling out the ‘red carpet’ for Mr. Mascis. It just happened to be red from all the plasma churning thereupon.

Krautfuzz on Instagram

Sulatron Records website

Mirror World Music website

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Sleeping Mountain, Sleeping Mountain

Even before they get to the six-and-a-half-minute “The Door” or the dreamy midsection of closer “Medusa,” London’s Sleeping Mountain demonstrate patience in their delivery early on with the instrumental-save-for-the-sample leadoff “Humans” and “Walls of Shadows,” which leads with guest vocals before the full tonal crux of the riff is unveiled, and continues in methodical, doom-leaning fashion. That’s a vibe that doesn’t necessarily persist as the later “Akelarre” puts the cymbals out front and pushes a more uptempo finish ahead of the closer “Medusa,” but the dude-twang “Alibi” and the all-in nod of “Tennessee Walking Horse” underscore the message of dynamic, and while this self-titled may be the first album from Sleeping Mountain, it portrays the three-piece as confident in their approach and sure of their direction, even if they’re not 100 percent on where that direction is going. Nor should they be. They should be writing the songs and letting the rest work itself out over time, which is what you get here. They sound like a band I’ll still be writing about in a decade, so I guess we’ll see how it goes.

Sleeping Mountain website

Sleeping Mountain on Bandcamp

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Goblinsmoker, The King’s Eternal Throne

Behold the awaited first album from Durham, UK, sludge-doom, put-a-pillow-over-your-face-and-it’s-made-of-riffs betrayers Goblinsmoker. Dubbed The King’s Eternal Throne and indeed capping with the three-minute minimalist homage “Toad King (Forest Synth Offering),” the preceding title-track works its way from its more poised opening into an engrossing meganod of hairy-ass distortion, with the later-arriving throatripper screams ready for whatever Dopethrone comparison you want to make, and no less sharp in the biting. Of course, by the time they get to that third-of-four inclusions, this has already been well proven on side A’s “Shamanic Rites” and “Burn Him,” the leadoff holding to a steady and malevolent lumber while the follow-up takes a faster swing to upending witchy convention as the vocals offer the most vicious devourment I’ve heard from an English band since Dopefight roamed the earth. Down with humans. Up with toads. Familiar enough in its sludgy roots, The King’s Eternal Throne makes its own trouble like dog food makes gravy (with added liquid, in other words), and basks in heaps of shenanigans besides. The songs are like slow-motion razor juggling.

Goblinsmoker on Bandcamp

APF Records website

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Onioroshi, Shrine

The three-song sophomore full-length, Shrine, from Italian heavy progressives Onioroshi is the band’s first outing since 2019’s debut, Beyond These Mountains (review here), and is duly adventurous for that. Set up across “Pyramid” (18:18), “Laborintus” (15:35) and “Egg” (20:31), the album feels cohesive in refusing to be anything other than one it is. Its psychedelia is met with fervent terrestrial groove, and “Laborintus” spends most of its 15 minutes sounding like it’s about to fall apart, but never does. Duh, should I call it expansive? The truth is at 54 minutes, it’s a significant undertaking, but “Laborintus” ends up thrilling for the element of danger, and though raw in the production, “Egg” builds its own world in atmospherics, pushing further in the ebbs and flows of “Pyramid,” which itself takes loud/quiet trades to a less-predictable place. Some of Shrine feels insular, but that seems to be the point. A creative call to worship, and maybe worshiping the creativity itself.

Onioroshi on Bandcamp

Bitume Productions website

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L’Ira del Baccano & Yama, Tempus Deorum

Whoa. First of all, with Tempus Deorum, you’ve got L’Ira del Baccano. The Roman psychedelic explorers follow 2023’s Cosmic Evoked Potentials (review here) with the 19-minute piece “Tempus 25,” an ether-bound reach that hypnotizes well ahead of unveiling its full tonal breadth and even crushes a bit before receding ahead of the next go. With synth cascading through the midsection and a duly expansive build that hits two more climaxes before it’s through, “Tempus 25” sets itself up in contrast to Tilburg, the Netherlands’ Yama, whose 2014 debut, Ananta (review here), is well remembered as they offer three songs “Wish to Go Under,” “The Absolute” and “Naraka,” that feel more solidified in their structure but that offer complement to “Tempus 25” for that. Not short on scope themselves, Yama let the chug patterning and vocal soar of “The Absolute” stand in evidence of their progressivism, and after 11 years, they sound like they have more to say. One only hopes that’s the case all around on this somehow-tidy, 35-minute split LP.

L’Ira del Baccano website

Yama on Bandcamp

Subsound Records store

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